The Case: In case you're just now tuning in, we here at City of Ate loveThanksgiving. The stuffing, the green bean casserole, we even have an annual steel cage match to decide who gets the last turkey leg (Spoiler alert: Alice "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Taser" Laussade always wins). So with National Gorging Day right around the corner, it seems the most appropriate thing to train for the day-long digestive marathon would be to load up on the traditional fixings, sandwich style.

Capriotti's opened to mild fanfare a couple months ago in the generously titled Lakeside Market strip center in the land of the cougar: West Plano. Walking in, one of the first things to note is there are two chip racks. The first chip rack has the normal, individual sized bags of chips, while the second is filled with the huge looks-like-it's-a-sweatpants-and-Netflix-kind-of-day bags. A quick glance to the menu, and I see that the "large" sub measures in at 20 inches. I instantly start to question the tensile strength of my belt.

Forgoing the Duggar special, I opt for the medium Bobbie, which still clocked in at a respectable 12 inches. One of the things that sets this particular sandwich apart from most chains, the cashier informs me, is that the turkey is pulled from a freshly cooked bird. My expectations now sufficiently stoked, I take my seat in the starkly incandescent dining room.

Once my training sandwich is ready, I head over to the steel deli counter and haul it back to my table. Though the menu claims the sandwich is 12 inches, this thing measures up much bigger in person. Packed with turkey and stuffing, with a thin layer of cranberry sauce, it's more bang for a couple more bucks than the 12-inchers at the place with the mind-eviscerating jingle.

Pulling off my first bite, I'm somewhat surprised that the sandwich is cold. These guys are going all-in on the leftovers bit, and it's a good play. The turkey retains a little of its juiciness, but gets some help from the Ocean Spray sauce. The stuffing adds the savory herb element, while a light coating of mayo provides a creamy segue between the flavors. Capriotti's hoagie is huge and sturdy, but doesn't get in the way, like a bouncer when a chick fight breaks out.

The Verdict: Available year-round, The Bobbie offers a more than capable ride down Tryptophan Lane.

Bonus Verdict: The Bobbie wasn't the only sandwich tried at Capriotti's. My accompaniment, the future Mrs. 'Wich Trials, got The Capastrami, essentially a Reuben with coleslaw instead of sauerkraut. While I love the classic kraut version of the sandwich, Capriotti's rendition made an incredibly strong statement. The warm, grilled pastrami worked with the crisp slaw in a way that could incite codependency.